Nobody Else But You
by Sudade
Summary: [Takes place after the movie] Becca Mitchell is madly in love with Jesse Swanson. Jesse, returns the affections absolutely. Everything is perfect, until Becca is offered a job in Los Angeles. The story progresses through their senior as the two fight many obstacles to keep their long distance relationship alive. Please R&R! Constructive Criticism is appreciated
1. Dreamer

_Becca's grin is brighter than the sun. _

You'll meet someone one day, and you won't know it. But sooner or later, they become the most important person in your life.

And you won't know why. You'll just wake up one day and every urge and want and need is motivated by them.

You'll want to do it all for them.

Becca just so happens to be my motivation.

It sounds silly, but sometimes I picture taking Becca back home to meet my parents. I imagine my mother's eyes squinting to get a good look at Becca.

She'll think her earrings are the farthest thing from a sight for sore eyes, and her dark make up may be a tad withdrawn from what your everyday "beauty" may possess.

But once she hears Becca's genial laugh, and gazes upon her sunlight grin, she'll see how beautiful Becca is. And once she hears Becca sing, my mom will see why Becca is the

**most**

**important**

**girl**

**in my life.**

"Do you do that a lot?"

I lean my head back against the tree I'm sitting near. In my peripheral vision, I can see Becca's eyebrows knit together in confusion. Her lips are turned up into a half grin – only because Becca never "smile smiles" she only "half" smiles because it still leaks a sense of sarcasm.

My head tilts to the side, "Do what?"

"That – daze off," I smiled, remembering where my mind had wandered off to as Becca went on, "Stop it, loser. You're getting stranger and stranger by the day."

I crossed my feet as I let a gentle hand rest on her leg. I noticed red flush unto her cheeks. I bit my lip, "I was just thinking of something really cool."

"Yeah? What is it?" Becca's tilts her head in anticipation but I wave away my thoughts, "Oh, it's nothing."

Becca nodded. She didn't push, she **never** pushed. She appreciated the idea of private thoughts; she appreciated space. She didn't see the loneliness, only the beauty.

"Becca, this might sound a bit weird – I mean, I guess all I'm trying to say is," I kept my eyes glued to the grass, as I picked at it with my left hand. My right hand stayed on her leg lazily, almost as if that spot was made for my hand. She hadn't shifted under its weight uncomfortably.

"Becca-," I choked. I felt the color flush from my face.

"Yes Jesse?"

I closed my eyes, waiting for the right words to come into mind. I was just about to admit something, but as strange as it is, I don't even know what I'm admitting yet.

I felt her thumb graze my cheek – it went over the stubble softly, and once I opened my eyes, her lips had already met mine.

"- I love you." I mumbled. I let my head fall back, but instead of the rough, crisp bark of the tree I was expecting to find, I found my pillow.

And Benji.

And Donald.

**But no Becca.**

"Bud, you've had one too many of these dreams…"

Benji came to sit on my bed. I had pulled my cotton covers past my eyes to block out the 12 o'clock sunshine. Donald laughed, "I agree man. You moaned her name at least six times… if you like her as much as you _subconsciously _admit it, why did you let her do what she did? Why didn't you stop her?"

In a slow, fluid moment, I let the covers be brought down to my bare chest. I sighed, peering over to a photo of us together at last year's final.

Her smile was still as bright as sunlight.

Her smile is still as bright as sunlight.

"I guess," I sighed, scratching my forehead, "She has dreams too, you know? It's not that wanted her to go, but what kind of boyfriend would I be if I made her stay? What kind of…person—to make her put her dreams on pause so that I'll have more time with her? All I want is for her to be happy. And if that means letting her go, so be it. At least she's happy."

Benji stopped me, "She was happy with you."

Donald nodded, but I refused to go on. They just didn't understand. It would make more sense if I cried – pleaded and begged for her. It would be more logical if I questioned her subconsciously. But I knew she didn't want to leave.

I know she wanted to stay.

Life just has funny ways of working, though.

Very funny ways.


	2. Beneath my feet

3 years earlier …

**"Jesse, wait up!"**

Becca's 5 foot 2 inches stature scurried after her almost 5 foot 11 inched boyfriend.

Jesse spun around, his deep chocolate like eyes meeting her hazel eyes.

She melted every time their eyes met. Becca had never felt like such a sap around any boy. But, in simpler terms, Jesse really wasn't just any boy. He was her boy – hers. She had never fully claimed anything as hers, but Jesse was hers. Completely and totally hers.

"Hey, Be-caw," His smile. **_Ugh that smile. _**That one small gesture possibly had the power to turn stones into hearts and lesbians straight. Jesse was perfection. It had taken awhile for Becca to fully accept her attraction to him, but eventually, she had.

"Hey," Her cheeks flushed as she gave him a cheeky grin, "How was your first class?"

He rocked on the balls of his feet as he kept his grip on his backpack tight; the butterflies in his stomach dancing at a full pace.

"It was okay. Just one of those philosophy classes you take to just say you took a philosophy class. How was yours?"

She shrugged nonchalantly, "History of Art – it's a hard class, but hey, someone's got to take it." Sarcasm dripped from her voice smoothly. Jesse's cheeks turned upwards as a small laugh escaped his mouth.

"I agree," Jesse loosened his grip on one of his straps and wrapped an arm around Becca's petite shoulder, "and hey, when I need notes next semester, you can hook your cute boyfriend up."

She laughed, "Boyfriend?" Becca eyed Jesse closely, watching his eyes drop in a sort of embarrassment, "I didn't know Logan Lerman transferred…"

Jesse punched her shoulder playfully, "Hey, not funny! I'm sensitive, Hilary Swank."

Becca found herself, pulling Jesse close by his waist and laying a soft kiss on his cheek, "Jesse, you know you're my boy."

His cheeks flushed, as he kissed her forehead, enveloping her into his arms again.

Becca wasn't used to this banter – this flirtationship if you will. She had never fallen so hard for anyone before. She found herself constantly thinking of Jesse, thinking of new ways to surprise him and keep him on his toes. She wanted him to feel like the greatest guy in the world – because he was.

He was everything Becca hated; yet, everything she loved.

Her eyes hadn't left his face. He held her hand close as they walked, carefully feeling the smoothness of her palm with his thumb nail.

"Becca?"

The y had reached Becca's dorm room hallway when Jesse spoke up again. She earnestly looked towards him, waiting for him to go on. She loved it when he said her name. It fell so fluently from his lips. She wanted him to say it forever.

"Yes?"

Jesse cleared his throat, "Let me take you out tonight…just the two of us. Please?"

Before she could answer, Chloe appeared behind them, her smile genial and her bright red hair springy.

"Becca!" She exclaimed before embracing her friend. The alumni began to rant, "I just had to stop by for your first day of sophomore year! I was packing up my apartment up town when I remembered that you were starting school again and it just hit me like a ton of bricks – HOW COULD I FORGET BECCA, right? So I drove as fast as I could and-," Chloe stuttered when she noticed Jesse standing on the side, hands in his pockets, patiently waiting to say hello, "Oh I'm so sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting-,"

"No, no it's fine Chloe; I was just walking my girlfriend to her dorm room. I'll pick you up at 7 Becca," Jesse smiled, turning to leave before her waved happily towards Chloe, "It was nice seeing you again, goldilocks!"

Chloe laughed happily, waving back, "See you around Wreck it Ralph!" Over summer, the competitive drive within the two Barden acapella groups diminished once Jesse and Becca started talking – and the closer Jesse got to Becca, the closer he got to the rest of the Bellas.

"Girlfriend?" Chloe whispered excitedly, "GIRLFRIEND?"

Becca contained her smile, "I'll explain how it all went down if you promise to not get weird on me, red."

Chloe nodded, letting Becca push her into the dorm room, "I aca-swear."


	3. Delicate

**A/N - Hello! Thank you for all the positive feedback you guys have been giving me. Remember that reviews are encouraged and welcome. I love hearing what you guys think, how I can make the story better. Things like that.  
This chapter involves some Chloe/Becca, but the main couple is still Jesse & Becca. **

**Thank You! Please Read & Review :-) Have a wonderful day!**

* * *

3 years earlier

_Later that afternoon..._

**"Becca start from the very beginning,"**

Chole began, guiding a paddle brush through my mousy brown hair. I let my chin fall into my hands as I thought attentively to the beginning of our relationship.

**From the very beginning**.

"I mean, you can say it all started with the kiss-"

I paused to glance at Chloe's face. At the time she had developed feelings for me, and only told me when she was drunk the following night. You know what they say- **drunk hearts speak sober words**.

But I doubt she remembered spilling her heart to me, so I avoided asking her questions.

I quickly averted the topic when I noticed her face drop. She cleared her throat, "but it just came together... I never stopped thinking about him and vice versa. I like him a lot, Chloe. So much that I can actually see a future with him."

Chloe slammed the brush onto the table, "and Luke?"

Her eyes became daggers, much like Jesse's whenever Luke the topic of the conversation. I shook my head, "I'd rather not talk about it."

Chloe's eyes softened, "why not Becca?"

I shook my head, insisting to move on, "bad memories"

Chloe pushed- I hated pushers. Only because I liked to keep certain things to myself because there are certain things that one should keep themselves. This being one of them.

"Becca..."

"Chloe please-"

"I'm sure it isn't that bad-"

"He just used me, that's all. My music first, telling people it was his mixes playing nonstop, then eventually he had me and I thought I liked him, I thought he was a good guy," I paused, suddenly feeling very naked, "Jesse makes me feel safe. He's always cared about me... Even from the beginning."

Chloe turned her back from me, as if she was just done with the conversation all together. She cleared her throat, "So then..." She spoke slowly as if trying to put the story together, "You went to Jesse as a last resort?"

I scoffed, "Chloe," I lifted a baby wipe to my eyes to remove my makeup. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her smirk. Shaking my head, I quickly retaliated, "I didn't go to him because I was lonely; things just fell into place for us...don't you think I find it hard to believe too?"

"Please," Chloe retrieved a loose soft rose colored chiffon blouse from the back of my closet, as well as a pair of tan riding boots that Stacie had left last week, "Spare me your soap opera love story Bec - we all know that you're-."

"Not good enough for Jesse." I cut her off, staring at my reflection.

Just looking at myself, I began to feel sick.

I knew this feeling all too well. You can never explain it, really. It's kind of a sickening thought though. You just feel very **alone**.

The idea of Jesse made me feel very vulnerable. As if I was a book, and he went through every subtext and quote and sentence - memorizing the placement of my commas and indents. Carefully folding the edges of my pages at his favorite parts. How wonderful, one must think, to be loved by someone that analyzes and reminisces on every detail that makes you, **you.**

How frightening is it to fall in love with someone who makes you feel so naked; free. So open and ready for love, when you spent your whole life avoiding it.

Chloe took a seat on the bed, and glanced at me, her voice soft, "You really love him, don't you Becca..."

I nodded. I had so many answers to that very specific, simple question. But I could only muster up enough confidence to nod.

"Becca, do you remember what I told you...the night after we won the ICCA's..."

I nodded again. The same feelings I had to the previous swam around in my head.

"I told you that I loved you. **Loved -** just so we don't get cocky here," She noted the sly smile etched onto my face. How could I forget that night? It was the night after I told Luke off, the night Jesse found me beaten...the night my best friend told me she loved me.

_"Luke, you stole my mixes-" _

_"Becca-" He wrapped a muscular arm around Becca's petite waste._

_"No Luke, you stole my music. I gave you them to play on the station - _**_not to use as your one way ticket out of here!" _**

_Luke pushed Becca into the glass wall separating the booth from the rest of the studio. _

_At the time, Luke's cigarette addiction was beginning to escalate._

_He wanted more._

_First, marijuana. The studio began to smell more and more like a musky, college Junior's dorm room._

_Then towards coke._

_He'd be doing a line a day. First, every two hours. Then, hourly. Then, consecutively._

_Then after his friend had showed him Speed, the guy I had come to know and_**_thought_**_ was perfect turned into a complete monster. _

_"Get off of me Luke!" _

_I remember my weak fists pounding against his chest as he struggled to rip open the buttons of my blouse. _

_Just thinking back to it makes me squirm. I had let myself be blinded by his charm, only to be lured into his tricks. _

_"Becca?" I couldn't see his face, but I heard Jesse's voice ring clear. It was somewhat dull and muted from the soundproof walls of the booth, but it wasn't enough to stop him. _

_I don't remember much after that. I do remember Luke pulling my hair aggressively as he tried to rip off my shirt. I remember crying and being thrown onto the floor, as Luke tried to cover my mouth with tape. _

_Everything after that is a blur. I can still faintly hear Jesse bang against the door. _

_I can still hear Luke's twisted voice as he yelled towards Jesse_

_"No freshmen allowed in the booth!" _

_Suddenly I heard the faint sounds of plastic CD cases pounding against the glass wall. Luke stood up from me, as I lay on the floor in shock._

_The last thing I remember was Luke covering his eyes as millions of shattered glass scattered around our bodies._

_And Jesse reaching through the now broken window to unlock the door._

_"See Bec, you aren't the only one breaking windows for love." _

Chloe looked toward me softly, her blue eyes kind, "I liked you so much Becca - simply because, you were just a good person. You were always so humble and hardworking. You were just... flaws. Tiny flaws stitched together by good intentions. You have to give yourself some credit sometimes. I can see why Jesse is so madly in love with you!" She handed me liquid eyeliner from her purse. I took it with a smile, squeezing it within my tight fist.

She stood again, bringing the clothes she had chosen from my closet over toward me.

"Remember that, okay Becca? You're an **amazing, talented, beautiful** girl. You over think the way this relationship should be. You craze that sense of... _control; order_. Maybe it's time to realize that things aren't that scary. Maybe it's good that things **fall together on their own once in awhile**. You'd be surprised how well life treats you, when you learn to love life back."

I kept quiet. I hadn't realized it, but I was smiling.

I stood quickly, and walked towards Chloe. I wrapped my arms around her next, and brought her in for a hug. A gesture I was so foreign with, but seemed right for the situation.

"Thank you Chloe." She smelt like raspberries and chocolate. She contained a laugh, "For what?"

**"For being my best friend." **


	4. Collect Calls

**Present**

**October, 2012**

When Beca left towards the end of September, I tried to keep myself as busy as I could.

I took up countless extracurricular activities – water polo, although I couldn't swim to save my life. Working as a bartender downtown, serving drinks to all the college students – just something I was _moderately _good at, although Beca despised the job. She knew how I was when I got drunk. I was an airhead; I never cheated on her, I promise you that. But I was very tipsy, always slurring my words and speaking my heart. Once I began to talk, I could never shut up. I was a complete mess.

I just needed to get my mind off of her, you know? Only because I hated lingering on memories for comfort, when in reality, she wasn't really _gone_. She wasn't going to be gone forever, either. _Just a month_, she told me,_ it's just an internship._

But she was good – _too good._ Who wouldn't want to hire my Beca? She was charismatic and passionate and very, very talented at producing music. That was something I loved about Beca very much. She knew what she was doing. She practiced her craft. I had never seen someone so passionate about what they loved doing until I met Beca. Maybe that's why I fell for her – her passion. I knew that if she had that much love for her craft, she could have as much love for me. And she did—_she does._

It's Friday, around 2 AM. The last of the drunken college students left lazily through the glass doors as I stayed behind the bar, drying the last few glasses with a cloth.

This is how it'd been for the past 2 weeks. I'd go to class – 5 days a week, then work every Friday and Saturday night, from 7 to 2. That was usually when Beca worked as well. She would stay late at the office, going over mixes with her boss Beryl. They'd take what they liked, sent back what they didn't. It was basically Beca's dream job. It paid little to nothing, but it was her dream.

My back pocket began to vibrate as Beca's ringtone began to play. "Hey Ho" by the Lumineers began to play, and I smiled. She had just gotten off work too. It was our typical phone call. It was the one thing I looked forward to, day and night. It was my comfort; it was my routine.

"Baby," I could practically feel her smile through my phone. Why? Because I couldn't help but smile as well, "Are you still at the bar?"

"Yeah, just closing up…how was work?" I tossed the cloth onto the counter and took a seat at the bar, propping my elbows up. "It was boring. I wanted to play music."

"That always happens to you," She laughed. That laugh, _**god**_ I missed that laugh. I couldn't help but cringe as an image of her beautiful smile flashed in my mind, "Don't worry Skrillex, come one will day your,"

She laughed again, "Stop it Yoda, that's unattractive. I just might have to cut you lose,"

"Please don't," I began to pout playfully, as if she was in the room with me. "And why not, Swanson?"

"Because I'm never going to find another girl who'll recognize my Yoda comebacks OR a girl who coincidentally knows how to speak German as well…"

"I'm telling you," I heard her starting up a car, "Vader means father. Google translate it, you'll see."

"5 bucks, it probably means 'papa' or something." She snickered, "Whatever Swanson."

There was a moment of silence, as I heard her sniffle. Why she…_crying?_ Was Beca Mitchell actually shedding a tear? I tried not to ask, because knowing Beca, she'd retaliate and call me a dick or a cock sucker. Her usual 'I'm going to insult you but try not to hurt you' insults.

"Bec, are you crying?"

She sniffled again.

"Bec…"

"Yes?"

She sounded so meek. I half wanted her to tell me what was on her mind, but I already knew. At least, I could only imagine what was going on through her head.

"I just," She paused, and took a while to start explaining herself once again, "I miss you so much, Jesse."

I hadn't noticed, but I had let my head fall into my hands. I had begun crying as well.

"I miss you too, Beca. I wish you were here right now."

She sobbed. She was actually _crying…__**hardcore**__ crying. _This wasn't my Beca. She never cries. Never – and if she were to cry, it'd have to be about something serious, like a family member dying or her Bella's losing.

"I love you, Jesse." She sniffed again. I could hear her trying to compose herself. She coughed, as I'm sure she was wiping away her tears.

I began to do the same, once I noticed Benji at the door of the bar, holding take out in one hand. He knocked on the glass door and waved, motioning for me to come out.

"I love you too, beautiful."

"Jesse?"

I held up a hand to Benji, telling him I'd be out soon. I spun the stool around, so I faced the bar. I kept my hand to my eyes, "Yes?"

"I can't wait to come home to you."

I smiled to myself, and for some reason, I couldn't stop crying. "Me too, Beca."

Why couldn't I stop crying? Maybe I had really missed her. So much so, that I actually began to miss who I used to be. What was I doing here, working on a Friday night, instead of being out with my Trebles? Who had I become?

We hung up not long after that, and I came out to Benji, who was walking with me back to our dorm. I was so conflicted. I was so angry at Beca for leaving me like this. She had left me so … lost. Please don't confuse me for some love sick fool, like Bella from Twilight. Please don't think that I'm so dependent on Becca for every little thing.

But it was just the fact that I am _that_ in love with Beca. I think that's what makes me so upset. That she left and I'm still in love with her and she still loves me just the same and it's just not fair.

But I had let her go. It's her dream we're talking about here. You always support your significant other, no matter what; you always support your best friend.

And after all, they always say that best friends make the best lovers.


	5. Jessie's Girl

**A/N - I made a mistake in previous chapters. Jesse and Becca are now SENIORS; I just got the words mixed up. They have been dating since freshman year.**

_1 month earlier_

_September 2012_

**"I hope you realize that if I don't make it back alive, you would be the main suspect for murder." Beca laughed, gripping onto Jesse's strong forearm. He laughed, his voice low, "Shh, they might hear you." Beca raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening behind the black blindfold, "They? Who's they…" **

Jesse and Beca had officially been dating for 3 years and 5 months. They had become a part of each other's daily schedule. They fell together almost perfectly. It was weird though; you could never put a dorky movie buff and a DJ that was too "cool" for school together. In any alternate universe, they just didn't work. They would never work. One way or the other, one of them was bound to get hurt.

But hurting each other… that was the last thing either of them wanted. They had grown so close over the past 3 years; they were almost conjoined at the hip. Not only were they in love; they were best friends. They couldn't imagine a life without the other.

**And if you were to ask Jesse if he was going to marry Beca?**

**_His answer would be yes_.**

Jesse stopped Beca underneath an oak tree adorned with millions of fire lit lanterns. Ed Sheeran – an appropriate choice of music – was playing from a small iPod dock on the picnic blanket Jesse had set out earlier. Today was the anniversary of their very first date. It had gone quiet wrong in a multitude of ways.

For one, 3 years ago to this day, they had officially been dating for 4 months. Becca was very timid, and hadn't let Jesse all the way in. She was still convinced that Jesse was just like the others; completely unaware of how crazy he was for her.

She had always been very unfazed by the whole idea of love. She didn't want that; she didn't believe she deserved it. But Jesse did, and he was so persistent that he was sure that she felt every ounce of love he had to give.

In this way, that was the second thing that went wrong on their first date. After dinner, Jesse poured his heart of like a love sick maniac. He was so obsessed with the idea of Beca knowing and feeling the same things he did, that he began rambling on and on about how he felt.

But strangely enough, Beca wasn't appalled in any way. She secretly felt and thought the same things Jesse did. She just didn't know how to tell him this. She was just so used to failure and being let down and being given up on.

If she tried to remember more clearly, she could still picture Jesse's eyes when he had given up on her. It read _don't go_. So she never left. She swears to herself that she had done all that she had to win him over was out of guilt; but she knew it was because Jesse had slowly creeped in and taken the position of**_ 'most important person in my life'._**

Jesse helped Beca down, as her eyes gazed over the beautiful set up earnestly. She was always amazed with all that Jesse could do. "So, what do you think?" He scratched the bag of his head shyly, "It isn't the best, but I tried to down play it because you aren't really into the whole corny thing and-,"

Beca had leaned over, laughing, and placed her lips against his, "It's perfect, dork. Thank you… you never fail to swoop my off my feet." Her cheeks grew crimson as Jesse clumsily tried to light another candle. "Whoa…did you just use a cliché term coincidentally stated in the original Grease?" His movie buff side was spilling from his tongue. Beca couldn't help but playfully punch his arm, "Stop getting weird or else we can't do corny things like this anymore!"

He sat back with a small sigh. He placed a muscular arm around Beca's petite shoulder. His chocolate like eyes fell into Beca's hazel. She could imagine herself – foolishly—melting into his eyes. "We have to go on our annual "first, first date" Beca! It's tradition."

It was true, the two didn't actually have the typical 'first date' until much later in their relationship because all that had been going on with the Trebles and Bellas and also what went down with Luke. So this; this - date, of sorts was special.

"I know," Beca said quietly, noting that Jesse's eyes couldn't leave her. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear subconsciously. She hadn't worn her typical 'piss of' make up. In fact, she had settled on just a bit of liquid liner and mascara, accompanied by lip gloss. And Jesse had been right – Becca was unconventionally beautiful behind her makeup and scary piercing. She was his kind of perfect.

"You really are a huge part of my life. It's funny, you know? It's just so ironic how I found myself singing come on wayward son to a cute girl one day, to dating the beautiful girl the next. I didn't even intentionally sing it to you – I just didn't want to listen to my mom rant about the importance of laundry."

Beca giggled, scooting in closer, "I didn't even mean to be friends with you, it's just –- Benji swayed my decision to place a restraining over on you," Jesse mouth gaped as he whispered 'jerk'. "Let's just say," Beca leaned in closer, placing a gently kiss on his cheek, "Benji has done a lot to make me stay with you."

She was about to go in for another peck, but Jesse lifted his chin _just _right, and their lips met simultaneously. "That's why he's my best friend." They laughed for a moment, their hands entwined. 21 years of hard work and determination left marks and dents in their fingertips, but it was comforting to know that you weren't going at the world alone.

"Beca, days like today; moments like now, they're what makes tomorrow so perfect. Our future, I mean. When we're all grown up, you're in white and I'm in black, I might add… things like this are what make _our tomorrow _so special. We'll be able to look back and say, '_Fuck, _we made it'".

She squeezed his hand tightly. She had only been so silent tonight because she was afraid she might cry. She let her chin fall, as Jesse watched her closely.

"Beca," His voice was low. She didn't want him to listen to what she had to say. She knew that this ounce of information was going to break his heart for good. He would want to comprehend everything that was going to happen. He'd see what would happen to him; their relationship. Frankly, that was a topic she hated to talk about.

Not that she hated her relationship, of course. She loved Jesse. Probably more that she had ever loved anyone her whole life. But Beca never felt such passion for another person before, for all her life, her passion was music.

And here was Jesse. He was so amazing and intelligent and filled to the brim with ideas that no person could ever dream of. He made her feel as if she was on a freeway going two hundred miles per hour with now intent on stopping. He was a blessing and curse in disguise. He was all she ever wanted and more.

So how could she possible explain to him that she had to leave for LA?


End file.
